True Realisation Accompanies Loss
by Darkness Be Mine
Summary: Tony has left NCIS. His former colleagues quickly realise what an integral member of the team he was and fight to bring him back.
1. Detective

It felt good; he would admit to himself, a smirk twisting his lips as the short, fast pursuit was brought to an abrupt halt, the larger man's body cushioning his impact as Tony used his shoulder and all the weight he had behind it to drive Carlos into the wall. When the man struggled, trying to push him away and continue with his flight, Tony used the strength hidden beneath the plain clothes he wore to throw the man back into the wall, and he heard with satisfaction the sudden grunt of pain that escaped the other's mouth.

"That's right, buddy," Tony almost snarled to the back of the man's head. "Don't run, I said. Come quietly, and perhaps we might be able to work something out." His forearm rested across the man's shoulder-blades, using his whole weight to press him into the wall, rendering his struggles useless. His other hand held the pistol in his hand to the back of the perp's head, dissuading him from making a move. "Cut a deal," and he murmured the words in the man's ear, chuckling at the thought of the opportunity this guy had passed up. "But no. You knew better, right Carlos? You could get away..."

His attention – distracted for a moment as he went to holster his weapon – was forced sharply from his short speech when out of nowhere a knife appeared in the man's hand, slashing blindly at his antagonist; the detective releasing his captive long enough to dodge the vicious looking blade. When Carlos tried to make another run for it, Tony bolted after him, running a lowered shoulder right into the centre of his back, the extra weight running the man back into the wall.

Unwilling to allow the guy another shot at him, Tony slammed his still un-holstered gun into the man's wrist – braced against the red brick wall – and a cry of pain later saw the wicked blade falling from nerveless fingers.

Finally able to holster his gun, confident in his ability to hold the guy – now without the use of his right hand – Tony laughed humourlessly. "That's right," Tony spoke harshly into Carlos' ear as he cuffed one wrist, pulling the man from the wall and with a well placed hand and an expert twist of the guy's left arm, forced his perp down to the ground. With an arm pulled up and back, and Tony's knee forced into his back, he had little choice but to remain where he was.

In custody, Tony thought. At last.

"You just don't _get _it," Tony explained, the laughter in his voice drawing an angry snarl from the man lying prone on the ground. "I _won_," and he cuffed the other wrist almost viciously as he spoke that triumphant word. "I won before you even woke _up _this morning," and his smile was smug as he raised his blue eyes to watch his partner jog up beside him.

"Got another one, DiNozzo," the man panted, his breathing laboured, heavy frame preventing him from keeping up with the chase. "What the hell did we ever do without you?"

Tony offered the man his most charming smile as he climbed off their perp's back. "Apparently not a hell of a lot of exercise," he offered with a mischievous grin, his eyes flicking down only momentarily to the other man's girth; watching with satisfaction as his partner's eyes narrowed in that _'I'm-not-really-offended-but-am-going-to-pretend-I-am'_ sort of way that Tony was used to now with his co-workers. Then he indicated the knife lying on the ground by the wall. "Want to grab that as evidence. Might be the murder weapon," he added with a careless shrug, his tone making it very clear that he didn't think it likely.

James's low whistle was all that showed his appreciation for the nasty blade, but pulling a white glove – and once again Tony felt that annoying spark of remembrance at the sight of it – lifted the thing from the ground with nervous care. "Come on, DiNozzo. Best get this guy into holding. Who knows how many buddies he has around these parts..." and Tony chuckled at the nervous glances the man shot around him.

"Not worried are you, James?" he wanted to know, one brow sliding to his forehead as he yanked the cuffed man gracelessly back to his feet, his grip tight and unyielding on the man's wrists as he began pushing him back the way they'd come. "A hardened homicide detective like yourself... Surely not." Then he shrugged slightly, his gaze moving around the brightly lit plaza area. "And besides. This isn't his neighbourhood." He chuckled, pulling Carlos sharply back towards him, close enough to continue his words – speaking directly behind the man's ear. "That's what you get choosing to make shady deals with corrupt cops."

"You know... You'll make a lot of enemies, behaving like that, DiNozzo."

Tony just shot his partner the mega-watt smile he was known for, blue eyes sparkling almost wickedly at the man he'd known almost no time at all, and yet a man he had complete confidence in. The guy would watch his back, no matter the situation, or the perp. He may act it at times; by the guy was no coward. Why he maintained the act that he was, Tony couldn't be sure.

"Can't get along with everyone," Tony answered his comment with a brief shrug, blue eyes moving back to Carlos, his smile turning slowly back into the common smirk. "And besides; it's inevitable. I have an abrasive personality. Why fight it?"

James just snorted his amusement at the thought. "Can't be too much of an ass... I still like you."

"And so does your girlfriend," Tony added with a cheeky wink.

James just shot him another of those dark glares the younger man was _far _too used to, and Tony shook his head with a chuckle as he pushed the – still struggling – perp back through the arched entrance of the plaza and towards the car he and James had parked – thankfully – close by the entrance.

"And besides," he added as they reached the nondescript dark blue sedan the two plain clothes detectives had driven that morning. "Conscienceless drug dealers bordering on the homicidal..." and he allowed his voice to trail off, as though the rest of his sentence should have been clear. "Let's just say that a guy like this..." and he pushed the perp with added force for emphasis into the side of the car as his partner got the door open. "Not likely to attract the friends and henchmen, is he?"

James just snorted, knowing that no matter how many of his henchman a guy like this would kill, maim or otherwise injure, many would still come out of the woodwork to assist the man in a moment of need. A man like Carlos Nazziri would always be worth money to the right people – and mean money lost with his arrest. "You far too optimistic, DiNozzo. Bad guys aren't called that for the sake of it."

"Good advice."

The two simple words, calmly spoken, felt to Tony as though perhaps one of Carlos' henchmen _had _appeared and put a gun to the back of his neck, just like he had earlier with their boss. As it was, there was no gun, and no sudden death, but the cold shiver that snuck down Tony's spine did nothing to calm his nerves.

Ignoring the man for a long moment, Tony proceeded to manhandle the perp into the backseat of their specially modified 'normal' car – after all, the metal mesh between driver and passenger was essential in their business – pretending for all the world as though he hadn't heard those two words that made him want to run hard and fast in the opposite direction. He might have done just that too, ready to jump in the car and ignore the man completely, when he heard something that made his stomach drop sharply; a long – and yes, loud – sigh escaping his lips as he turned to face his former boss.

"James Middleton," his partner offered a hand that Gibbs shook wordlessly, clear blue eyes fixing on the man's face for a moment, doing a brief assessment before moving back to Tony. It was James however, who spoke first. "You know Detective DiNozzo?"

Gibbs' answer was short and succinct, and nothing that Tony wouldn't have expected from him.

"We've met."

He was the last person that Tony wanted to see, if he had to be entirely honest with himself. Sometimes, Washington DC just seemed too bloody small. The faintest desire to move back to Baltimore struck him, before he shook the thought off and walked the short distance to join his partner and the man he'd happily never have seen again – because _thankfully _the man was no longer his boss.

"Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded at his short, far from friendly greeting, and the cold blue gaze pinned the NCIS agent steadily and refused to move for even a second, as though to take his eyes off the man would leave him open to some sort of attack. To Tony it was almost odd using the man's name. He'd never really used it before, not to his face. Even from the beginning, back in Baltimore – back when his life had been normal, drama free and something that he'd actually enjoyed – he'd called the man 'Boss'. Now, the word simply didn't apply.

He'd be more than happy if it never did again.

"DiNozzo."

Sensing the tense mood between the two, not to mention instantly recognising the charged and dangerous aura around his partner, James hurriedly cleared his throat, his eyes darting from one to the other, before flicking over his shoulder and glancing back at their car. "I'll, uh... make sure the perp's secure, shall I?" he offered, hurrying off as Tony nodded without moving, his eyes never leaving Gibbs'.

"McGee misses you."

Tony snorted at the calm words, angered by those frustratingly composed and emotionless eyes that continued to stare him down. McGee missed him. Great. How was he supposed to react to that one? With a friendly _'Oh yeah? And how is McGee?'_ He snorted mentally at the thought. Yeah right. Holding any sort of conversation with Gibbs these days just wasn't a requirement. He had no desire or inclination to get along with the man at all. Leroy Jethro Gibbs had been completely and utterly cut out of his life, and Tony didn't care to let him back in.

"He has my number."

Tony's brief answer, not giving up anything, did nothing to change the neutral expression on Gibbs' face. He too was as unreadable as Tony had ever seen him. That was Gibbs. Quite, calm, composed. Gibbs didn't let anyone know what he was thinking or what was on his mind; _never _gave anything away. Ever. It might have been for this reason that Tony found himself so angry right now. Still, managing to keep his anger in check when Gibbs didn't respond to the waspish words – he was clearly waiting for DiNozzo to make the opening – Tony spoke with forced politeness.

"Nice day from a stroll in the plaza?"

His tone was sarcastic. Gibbs had purposely come to see him. This encounter had been no accident, and both knew it. Whether he would admit it or not, DiNozzo was yet to find out, but he wasn't about to ask why the hell the guy wanted to see him – that wasn't his problem; hadn't been for a few months now.

"You know... Ziva wanted to come."

"For a stroll in the plaza? How nice for her."

His voice was sharp as he mentioned his former colleague, but this had nothing to do with her. None of it had _anything _to do with those people that he'd used to work with. He had a faint suspicion why it was that the man had come here today; come to this precise location where he had somehow _known _that Tony was going to be.

When he found out who'd told the man, there'd be hell to pay back at the station.

And besides, it wasn't as though he was going to _accept _the man's offer, after all. Gibbs hadn't fired him. This wasn't his mistake to take back. Tony had quit for a reason, and returning to work with him just wasn't an option. He liked where he was, he liked what he did, he liked the people that he worked with. He wasn't giving that up. Not for a man with an axe to grind.

"You know... If this doesn't have a point, I _do _have a wanted criminal in the back seat of my car. I'm beginning to think sitting around in the open isn't exactly the best way to go about keeping this under wraps."

"Undercover?"

Tony almost sneered at the man, blue eyes narrowing slowly as he attempted to assess whether it was really worth standing here and continuing a conversation that Gibbs didn't feel inclined to take in any particular direction.

"No. I'd just rather not have his men take a rocket launcher to my car, is all."

Gibbs had heard about the incident several weeks ago to which Tony had been referring. The last detectives who had attempted to take this man down had suffered a death nothing short of over-dramatic. The drug dealer, Carlos Nazziri, alerted to their attempts, had sent a 'message' to the local PD. The message had, naturally, only made the police department try even harder to capture the man, sending in cop after cop for information, but waiting for the right time – the right partnership – to strike. The fact that they'd chosen DiNozzo, and the fact that Tony and his partner – he still hated thinking of that unknown man in such a role – had taken the criminal down almost singlehandedly... Well it was obvious that Tony still had it, and Gibbs was, to put it shortly, impressed – not that he'd ever admit that to Tony, even though Ziva would tell him later that this was _exactly _what he should have done.

"The team needs you."

Tony's gaze didn't soften at all at the veiled offer to return, and seconds later – after staring at the man in complete disbelief for several seconds – he shook his head, turning and moving back towards the car and his perp. "Not interested."

"Tony," and the word – though the detective hated the fact – stopped him dead in his tracks and turned him back to face the silver-haired man. It was rare in the extreme that Gibbs had ever used his first name. Maybe once, back in the day, but Baltimore had been a long time ago. "We need you back."

It was perhaps the closest Tony had ever seen to this emotion in Gibbs' eyes before. Not _quite _as believably sincere as Ziva could manage – or even McGee – but still a damn sight more emotion than Tony could remember seeing in his hardened, former marine, former boss.

Tony just allowed a soft laugh to fall mirthlessly from his lips, before he shook his head almost disdainfully at the man. "Criminal in the car, remember? Needs my attention more than _this _conversation ever will."

"I need you back on the team."

And there it was. Gibbs personally reaching out to Tony, hoping that this acknowledgement would succeed where the others had failed – it actually might have in the past. Gibbs however, might have reconsidered laying his pride on the line like that if he'd in any way been able to anticipate Tony's cool, calm and disinterested – Ziva was right, Tony was more like him than he'd ever realised – reply.

"Funny thing is, Gibbs, I don't need _you _anymore."

His eyes were casual and disinterested as he fixed his gaze on his former boss, before a brief shrug ended what little conversation they'd had, and Gibbs just watched in silence as the younger man slid with all DiNozzo's usual elegant grace into the driver's seat of the generally nondescript sedan. He saw the partner say something, and saw Tony's brief shake of the head. Another word from his partner and that familiar laughing smile flashed white teeth, before Tony reversed the car, executing an almost perfect three point turn and ducking out into the traffic with experienced precision.

As he watched the former Special Agent disappear into the midday rush, Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs couldn't help but feel that he'd made a huge mistake.


	2. Back To The Beginning

"Come on, Tony," his friend Rick offered with a sigh and a shake of his head. "She's out of your league."

Tony just shrugged, eyeing the attractive young woman from across the room; admiring the way her big, storm grey eyes sparkled with some form of delight at what her friends were saying; admiring the soft – at least it looked so to the naked eye – sleek, blonde hair that tumbled down in loose curls to her shoulders; admiring the dark red sweater that covered her arms to the wrist, but left those beautifully tanned shoulders bare. Then of course, there was the long, slender line of her body, and the beautifully tanned and smooth skin of the long legs left bare by the short, denim mini. All in all, the girl was damn FINE, and just about every man in the place had taken note of this fact from the moment she'd walked in.

"Are you sure?" Tony asked with his usual confidence, taking a long draught of his beer, his eyes never leaving the young woman. "Positive you're not underestimating my charm?"

"Positive," his friend offered unhelpfully, and Tony briefly looked back to the other man. "Come on, man. You're only so good, and that girl..." and he indicated her with a less than subtle jab of his thumb in her direction. "She's turned down guys both younger _and _hotter than you are." And Rick shrugged. "Come on, Buddy. You don't stand a chance. Don't embarrass yourself."

"I'll have you eating your words in no time," Tony offered the other man with a confidence that only made Rick shake his head in disbelief; his parting words were hardly encouraging.

"Okay, buddy... It's your nose," he added ominously.

It had been from an earlier occurrence that this comment had originated, due mostly to the fact that some other guy had decided to try his luck with the beautiful young woman, and had gotten a little too... well... hands on. Seconds later, he had both hands cupping an obviously broken nose – they'd heard the crack from across the room – blood dripping slightly from between his tight fingers. Still... Without the wandering hands, Tony was feeling relatively confident that he'd not need a visit to a doctor before work on Monday morning.

"Evening, ladies," Tony greeted the assembled, sliding easily into the spare seat by the young woman's friend, offering a charming grin at the woman next to him. Far from terrible looking – normally Tony's attention would have been _more _than satisfied with this young woman – she looked dull and plain next to her attractive friend. "And how are we all tonight?"

"We _were _much better a second ago," the gorgeous one responded, one slender brow twitching to her forehead in an expression that was eerily familiar. Tony just shrugged at her comment, his blue eyes roaming the table and finding that very few of the others seemed to agree with this statement. One was looking at him as though he'd just jumped half-naked out of her birthday cake.

"Actually we were just talking about you and your friend," and she inclined her head back to where he'd come from, causing him to look around and catch a glimpse of his friend's face, disapproving as ever, but slightly intrigued when it appeared that they were talking about him. "Wondering what you were saying about us?"

It was the dark-haired woman who had spoken, her equally dark eyes eyeing him all over almost hungrily, and Tony offered her another of his charming grins, direct and meant solely for the young woman and her flattering curiosity.

"Truthfully, my friend and I were discussing just how long it might take me to walk away with a broken nose," he offered pointedly, and the young woman across from him barely flinched; only a slight narrowing of her eyes giving him any indication that his comment had hit home. Her friend however, laughed as though he'd made one of the funniest jokes in the world to date, and Tony's grin only widened at her enthusiasm. It was clear that if he couldn't manage to get the attention of the other, her friend was most certainly his for the night – if he so chose.

However that wasn't the plan at all.

"So tell me," he began when the soft laughter had subsided, his blue eyes sweeping the group. "What is it that brings a group of gorgeous ladies such as yourselves out to a place like this on a Friday night?" he asked, one brow raised in question as it swept the small group. "What are we all celebrating?"

"It's Addi's first night back in town," the dark-haired woman informed him, indicating the gorgeous blonde with a brief sweeping gesture of her hand. "We were throwing a welcome back..."

"Morgan," and there was a warning in the other young woman's voice, her stormy eyes narrowed in irritation at her friend's slip. "It's none of his business."

"Oh come on, Addi," Morgan shot back in exasperation, looking momentarily at Tony before her gaze moved back to her friend. "Like it's really going to matter in the end. Why can't he know?"

"Yeah, Addi," Tony began almost plaintively, offering up a pout as an expression, one that she didn't seem to buy for an instant to judge by the sharply raised eyebrow and disdain burning in those colourless eyes. "Why can't I know?"

The newly revealed Addi just raised her chin, her expression almost haughty as she looked down her slender and attractive nose at him. "Adrienne."

"Excuse me?"

"My name," she explained, eyes narrowing in annoyance that he hadn't caught the sudden topic change. "Adrienne; not Addi."

"But your friend..."

And he didn't get much more out, because one of those slender brows had risen to her forehead in amused disdain as she glanced around the group assembled there with her, the other three girls shooting him brief looks of sympathy as she continued.

"That's because _they_," and she fixed him with a steely gaze. "Are my friends, and have been invited to call me so. You, whoever you are, have not."

From the looks shared by those at the table, this attitude from their friend had been the reason for the departure of many of the men who had arrived at this table tonight, and very clear in those expressions was the expectation that he would leave soon also in the face of their friend's obvious lack of enthusiasm when it came to guys interrupting their little 'girl's night out'.

He was determined to prove them wrong.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Anthony DiNozzo," he offered politely, extending his hand, something she just looked at as though it might be infected. He withdrew it moments later. "Tony to my friends."

Adrienne smirked at that, grey eyes flashing her amusement. "Well we're hardly those, Anthony," she offered, a pert twist to her lips that Tony found only drew him deeper into this insane sort of infatuation he felt towards her. God, she was incredible, and her 'hard to get' attitude was only making the prize that more worthwhile. "We've only just met."

"Ah..." he offered, raising a finger as though about to make an important point. "But the night is young, Addi," and he purposefully used the nickname her friends had used, winning a short giggle of amusement from the dark haired young woman seated beside him. "I have a long while yet, to get to know you all."

"You weren't invited to join us," she told him bluntly, leaning slightly forward as though to intimidate, and Tony just smiled at her, leaning across the table also, assuring her that intimidation was unlikely.

"Of that I'm very aware. You're not very inviting, are you Miss..." and his voice trailed off as he searched for a last name. When she merely glared at him however, he just shrugged. "Addi," he finished with an almost dismissive smile. "Suit yourself."

"Madsen," one of the girls offered helpfully, but quailed seconds later under the annoyed gaze of her friend.

The girl revealed earlier to be Morgan – the one who was completely his for the night if his luck failed with the other – cleared her throat, and attention shifted from the red face of the obviously timid brunette seated in the corner of the booth.

"So, Tony. What is it that you do?"

Tony offered the woman another of his charming grins. "Actually, I'm a federal agent." He noticed the quick looks being shot around the group, and wondered for a moment what they could possibly mean. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to arrest any of you tonight?"

Morgan looked surprised by his comment, shaking her head quickly, although he saw a slight sparkle in her eyes that suggested much of what she might like to do to him were she to get him on his own – he had no _doubt _that it involved his handcuffs. "No. It's just that Addi's..."

But Adrienne shushed her friend, and Tony's attention was officially caught. "A fan of the federal agent, are you Miss Madsen?"

Adrienne's gaze now was none of the animosity it had been before, and instead she watched him with a wary sort of interest. Intrigued by the sudden change, he was made even more curious when the young woman just shook her head, grey eyes contemplative. "Not a fan. Just... It certainly raises a man in my estimation, giving back to his country, and..." Then she shrugged, as though dismissing the whole thing. "I have a _bit _of a soft spot, but that _doesn't _mean that I like you."

"Of course not," he agreed, holding his hand up in a defensive gesture, chuckling at her words. "I wouldn't expect you to give in so easily. I can't imagine _wanting _to win anyone over just like that." And he snapped his fingers. "It certainly takes the fun out of the game, that's for sure."

She sniffed at his words. "Well how very cavalier of you. I suppose you imagine that's romantic?"

He just shrugged with a brief grin at her words. "Only if you do."

When she sniffed again, looking away, Morgan took the floor again. "So what type of federal agent are we talking about here?" she asked, dark eyes studying him closely, as though wondering just how easy it would be to get him out of the clothes he was currently wearing. "FBI, ATF..."

Tony just offered her another of his brilliant grins, watching her own smile widen, her dark eyes dazzling in their intensity. _You know_, his mind offered its opinion. _She's really not that bad..._

"NCIS," he offered, smiling when he caught confusion on some of the faces around him. "Stands for—"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," Morgan answered for him, and his surprise was complete, one brow raising to his forehead, an appreciative smirk tugging up one corner of his lips, blue studying brown for a long moment.

"You know... I'm surprised you know so much. Few people have heard of us before."

"Yeah well Addi..." and Morgan's voice trailed off when Adrienne's gaze was redirected to the table in a dangerous glare at her dark-haired friend. Still, she wasn't to be quailed long, and Morgan shot her friend an equally dark glare and continued seconds later. "Addi has a thing for the NCIS boys..."

"Really now?" Tony asked, brows raised in interest, blue eyes sparkling at the dark frown that spread across her face at her friend's betrayal. "Interesting."

"Don't get cocky," she sneered at him, grey eyes flat and uninterested on the surface, but beneath it all, Tony – used as he was to being around women who were talented at hiding what they were thinking – was able to read a keen interest in those otherwise cold eyes. "You still need a personality."

"And I _certainly _have one of those," he offered with a grin, something that, he was proud to admit, caused the briefest of smiles – although it really _was _closer to a smirk, he admitted – to flash up onto that exquisite face. "Don't you agree?"

She studied him carefully, grey eyes almost calculating as she seemed to do some sort of evaluation in her head, dark lashes lowered as she made a quick study of him. "You're certainly not dull, from what I can tell."

"Honey," he offered both his hands palm up in a brief 'why not' gesture. "You won't be disappointed."

* * *

The door slammed open, the couple falling through into Tony's apartment, lips locked in a fierce kiss, his hands tangled in her no longer sleek blonde hair, hers scrabbling with his jacket. Pulling it seconds later from his shoulders, Adrienne let it fall without hesitation or pause of any kind to the floor as he lifted her bodily from her feet. Long legs wrapped around his waist as he staggered with her to the bedroom, lowering her down to the bed, his long body covering hers.

It was only then that she suddenly broke the kiss, pulling away sharply, a hand pushing at his shoulder keeping him momentarily at bay. "You understand this is 'no strings'?" she clarified, grey eyes – dark with passion – serious as they fixed on his.

Tony nodded, breathless, as he studied the face of the beautiful woman beneath him. "Yeah," he breathed out, blue eyes filled with desire. "Yeah, I think we covered that part."

She nodded quickly, as though considering his answer for any possible flaws or problems, before replying. "Good," she answered, her hand sliding swiftly back around his neck, pulling him down to meet her lips in another of their frenzied kisses.

Seconds later it was Tony who pulled away, looking down at the heavily breathing woman, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "You know... You have to be the first woman I've been with in a while who's actually suggested that."

Adrienne didn't respond, though she seemed to think his words through a moment, even as her arms tightened around his neck, pulling his face back to hers, their lips fusing again as her hands hurriedly – and with no small amount of skill – unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his torso and casting it seconds later to the floor.

It was then that he pulled away again, and didn't miss the faint noise of frustration that slid from her lips as he did so, unable to miss the equal amount of frustration revealed in those grey eyes – almost black in the darkness. "You know what I was thinking..."

"Look," she began, her hands resting on his bare shoulders, fingers tensing slightly on his skin as though itching to do more. "Did you want to talk about your thoughts and feelings tonight, or were you more interested in getting laid, because if I'm mixing these signals, let me know..."

Tony didn't need to be told twice.


	3. Mistakes and Resolutions

**Author's Note:  
**Sorry, guys! I forgot to let you know that I was going on holiday, so things have been quite hectic with me for a while. Thankfully, Spain has been experiencing some hazy weather, so I've gotten a few spare hours to get this to you. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope to add another chapter when I'm back at the beginning of November.

Enjoy!

* * *

Tony was whistling as he strolled through security at the NCIS office, his blue eyes sparkling a greeting at those he worked with, offering nods of hello to several people he knew well, and ignoring the knowing shakes of their heads as they guessed – and more than likely, guessed correctly – what he'd been up to that weekend.

It was only a few minutes later that he strolled from the elevator, comfortable in the knowledge that he was early enough to avoid the notice of his boss, a wide grin twisting his lips, a smile that widened even further when he saw McGee approaching him with a thick file in his hands.

"Hey Probie... How was the weekend?"

McGee's eyes lifted to meet his and a half smile tugged up one corner of his lips as the young man shook his head in dismay. "Obviously not as great as I imagine you _intend_ to tell me yours was." He smiled knowingly when Tony opened his mouth to say something, but cut the senior field agent off before he could get anything out. "But before you go into all of that, I think there's something you might want to see waiting on your desk."

"My desk?" Tony asked, confused for a moment, before a smile tugged at his lips. "No, Probie! You didn't get me a present..."

McGee just shook his head in dismay at Tony's obvious good mood, before continuing through the office and disappearing into the elevator he'd just exited. Intrigued, Tony made his way through the office, but before he even reached the bullpen he understood exactly what it was that McGee had been talking about. Addi. Sitting on his desk. Waiting for him.

Shaking his head in amusement, he strolled over to the gorgeous young woman with the visitor's badge, offering a charming smile of greeting as he dropped his bag on the other side of his desk, moving around it to take his seat, and admiring the long, slender figure in front of him as she rose and turned those marvellous grey eyes his way.

"Hi," she greeted him cordially, none of those emotions he'd seen two nights ago present in her face. "I was looking for someone..."

"And I think you found him," Tony cut her off before she could finish, leaning forwards, elbows resting on his desk as he shot her what could almost be a suggestive smile, but he was surprised to see that original disinterest flash in her incredibly familiar stormy eyes.

"Actually I was looking for Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs."

Tony's brows rose in obvious surprise at her words, confusion now registering strongly in his eyes and plastered across his face. "Gibbs?" he queried, his brows now tugging together over his nose. "But..."

"Miss Madsen?"

It was Gibbs' voice and the young woman turned with a brilliant smile, grey eyes flashing at the sight of the older man. Confused for a moment, all Tony's questions were only added to when Gibb's continued.

"What are you doing here?" Gibbs was _not_ pleased, the fire in his clear blue eyes evidence enough of that, and Tony suddenly felt a little ill.

Adrienne merely shot him a smile as her eyes wandered over him, almost as if she were a tomcat sizing up her competition. "You're getting old!" she offered, indicating his grey hair with a brief nod. "A silver fox, I see... Bet the girls love that?"

Gibbs just repeated his earlier greeting, his eyes never moving from her, treating her as one might a dangerous creature that was ready to pounce any moment.

Adrienne however, despite Gibbs' far from welcoming behaviour, smiled again, though this time it didn't reach her grey eyes, all politeness was gone as she looked Gibbs over with an expression of distaste. "Just wondering if you have any comment on the recent death of Marine Corporal Isaac Jennings."

Tony felt a hole drop out of the bottom of his stomach, for he remembered questions from the previous night about just such a name. She'd asked him if he'd worked on the case, and like an idiot he'd confirmed without a thought, intent at the time only on impressing the young woman. Clearly she'd not only been impressed by this information, but had actually been fishing for information from him. Which made her...

"Even if we were working on that case, Miss Madsen, that information is in no way available to the public."

Oh _god!_

Tony wished desperately for a black hole to open at his feet and suck him down into the earth, knowing almost instinctively what was coming and swiftly proved right when Adrienne Madsen gestured to where he stood – frozen – with one of those long, slender arms, revealed to great effect by the sleeveless blouse she wore. "But Mr DiNozzo here has already confirmed that it was, in fact, your case. I was wondering if I could get a comment from the lead agent of the investigation where the killer of a senator's son was released on a technicality. Is it true the same man is now the suspect in several murders across the state? How can you sleep at night, knowing your team was the one to let him escape?"

Even as she was talking, Tony was dialling security, and Adrienne smiled coldly when two uniformed guards approached to escort her out. "Until next time, Agent Gibbs."

There was a long silence after she'd disappeared, all eyes in the bull pen turned her way as she was escorted to the elevator. Tony felt that keen feeling of dread settle back in his stomach when she turned for one last look back, choosing that moment to blow him a kiss across the room.

All eyes turned back to him.

"DiNozzo." And when Tony looked up at his boss, Gibbs indicated that he should follow him. Shoulders slumped, a sick feeling roiling in his stomach, Tony followed him from the room.

* * *

After being suitably reamed for discussing a closed – though it wasn't classified, it had been quickly and quietly hushed up – case with an private eye, Tony returned to the bullpen, the curious eyes of all agents resting squarely upon him as Gibbs strolled in on his heels, stalking back through the bullpen, and tossing a set of keys to McGee.

It was one of those moments when Tony was glad that Gibbs didn't feel the need to elaborate for the rest of the team, and instead he greeted them all with, "We've got a dead marine's wife on a Naval base. With a ransom note."

Catching the keys easily, McGee jumped to his feet, collecting his gun and badge from his draw and snapping them on, glad for some distraction from the complete awkwardness of a once beautiful morning. "A ransom note for a dead girl, boss?" he queried, and Gibbs just fixed him a look that the junior agent understood immediately. "Right. I'll get the car," and as he hurried back around his desk, almost tripping over the bag he'd left on the floor.

Gibbs turned to Ziva then, his gaze sharp and heavy. "Ziva. You're with me."

He never once looked at Tony. In fact, it seemed almost as though he were determined that his senior agent no longer existed. Shooting him a look of cool sympathy – after all, he'd been an idiot and brought this upon himself – Ziva nodded a brief farewell to the disgraced agent and followed after her boss.

Sighing, Tony slumped back in his seat, determined to climb out of this abyss he'd managed to dig himself into.

* * *

"It was only a matter of time," Ziva offered with a sniff as McGee moved to take a picture of a scattering of splintered wood by the back door, obviously a sign of a forced entry. "Tony is far too careless with the women he takes to his bed. He needed to learn this lesson."

"Yeah, but I don't think Tony would have done it on purpose. He's a good agent. It probably just slipped –"

"Listen to yourself, McGee. You are actually defending him. He targets you for every single thing you do wrong, but the minute he makes a mistake..."

"He's not a bad guy, Ziva. He just made a mistake."

"Well mistake or not –"

But McGee shushed her as Gibbs approached. "Anything interesting?"

"A few splinters from the door frame – the only sign of forced entry, but otherwise nothing out of place," McGee offered immediately, rising to face his boss, hazel eyes meeting Gibbs' with confidence and wary hesitance. After the occurrence of this morning, it was best to tread lightly with the man. "The crime scene's pretty clean, Boss. The killer didn't leave much behind."

"Apart from the body, McGee," Gibbs offered pointedly and he turned to leave them there. "Find me something I can use. Ziva, finish processing the crime scene then the two of you get everything back to Abby. Figure out who the hell wrote that note, and find out why if there was a ransom requested, was this woman," and he indicated the body being wrapped by Ducky and Palmer. "Killed at the scene," he yelled over his shoulder as he moved away.

"Sure thing, Boss," McGee called after him, before turning back to Ziva with a bit of a sigh, his eyes quickly scanning the area for any other evidence that might present itself.

"Tony better watch himself," Ziva offered helpfully moments later. "Because however pissed Gibbs is at Tony right now, you can only imagine that the Director will be more so. He will have to watch where he sticks his feet for a while."

"His nose, Ziva," McGee replied, determinedly ignoring the rest of her comment.

"What any of that got to do with Tony's nose?"

"Nothing," McGee replied with a bit of a sigh.

"What on this earth could Tony have been thinking, sleeping with a woman like that. And not only that, but telling her that we worked that case. Surely he must have seen exactly how suspicious that was, that woman asking about it like she did."

"Not necessarily, Miss David," Ducky's cheerful voice interrupted them as he and Jimmy wheeled the gurney past. "A woman's wiles have been known to corrupt even the purest of men, and those like young Miss Madsen are better at it than most." He leaned in as Jimmy continued on to the truck on his own, murmuring conspiratorially. "In fact, she and Gibbs have been at war for at least a few years now."

"Then how is it we've never seen her before today?" McGee asked, and Ducky grinned, laying a finger along the side of his nose knowingly, his eyes sparkling.

"Because, young Timothy, Gibbs has wanted it that way. Until this moment he's managed to keep the delightful if devious young woman away from his team in the interests of security or some such nonsense. DiNozzo was always going to be a prime target for her, and it was really only a matter of time until she discovered where to find him after hours. Gibbs tries his hardest to keep those people away from you, but as he may fail to understand at times, he's not infallible."

"Ducky..."

Gibbs' voice brought the two agents to attention, McGee shooting the man a guilty look whilst Doctor Mallard turned more calmly to face his old friend. "It's true, Jethro. You couldn't keep her from your agents forever. You can't hold DiNozzo accountable for everything. You know what that woman is like..."

"Ducky!" and the man's voice was sharper this time, and both McGee and Ziva found some pressing chores out at the car. The medical examiner just watched them go with a shake of his head before turning back to the man before him.

"You really ought to be a bit gentler on DiNozzo, Jethro. You know _firsthand_ just how talented that woman is in the arts of getting information from men, however the methods in which she does differs or not. You can't blame DiNozzo for making the same mistake you yourself did not three years ago." The medical examiner raised a finger, assuming the animated, thoughtful look he always did when some old memory jumped back into the forefront of his mind. "You know... This whole situation actually reminds me of a time in what _used_ to be Czechoslovakia, when..."

"Ducky..."

"Oh. Right," and he turned back to his friend with a sigh. "All I'm saying is don't be too hard on the boy. He's no doubt punishing himself more for this than you might consider him worthy of." When Gibbs' face showed no sign of mellowing, Ducky sighed. "Be _gentle_, Gibbs."

The lead agent didn't respond as he strode back to the car, Ziva and Timothy abandoning it, carrying gloves and sample bags for the few scraps of evidence they'd located, barely looking at Ducky as they moved past him into the house.

No doubt they could feel the burn of their boss' gaze on the back of their necks.

* * *

"It's been three _months_, for fuck's sake!"

All eyes in the large room turned to observe the fury on Anthony DiNozzo's face as he stalked into the bullpen, the man's blue eyes flashing angrily at two of his fellow agents, Tim and Ziva looking up at the angry outburst. "When is enough going to be enough?"

"Problem, DiNozzo?"

Usually the arrival of his boss was enough to quell the anger in the younger agent, but today was a rare exception, and Tony whirled on the man, blue eyes blazing as they met the calm expression of his boss. "Yes I have a fucking problem!" Tony snapped right back, ignoring the surprise written across Ziva's features and the quiet intake of breath that indicated Tim's surprise. "It was one fucking mistake, and it was three _months _ago and I'm still being treated like the walking dead; like some goddamn plague or something. When exactly the _fuck_ are you going to let this go?"

Jethro Gibbs just looked at his agent with cool, calm eyes as he took his seat at his desk, seeing the fury in the man's eyes, and knowing that to achieve exactly what it was that Vance required of him, all it would take was the smallest of pushes. Tony couldn't take much more of the punishment he'd been put through, and time off was exactly what the guy needed. Problem was, if they suggested it, they were confessing that one of their agents had done something wrong. They needed Tony to take that first step, and the Director had asked him to push.

And so he pushed.

"It was irresponsible, DiNozzo."

For a moment Tony froze, a moment during which Gibbs internally begged the man to calm himself down before he did anything rash. Then in quick, jerky movements he unclipped his gun and badge, slamming both down on the desk before his boss.

"You know what... Fuck this. I quit."

"Tony!" Ziva was on her feet in a second, dark eyes shocked as she shook her head, her long dark hair – pulled back in a quick loop behind her head – flipping side to side with the indignant shake of her head. "No."

"Just take some time off," Gibbs explained to the agent, rising back to his feet as Tony stalked across the bullpen and snatched up his bag. "Let Vance cool down a little, let the whole thing blow over. Just give it a couple of weeks."

Gibbs knew immediately that he'd misjudged exactly how much the period of isolation had been bothering Tony when the man whirled back, his bag slung over one shoulder as he stalked back across the bullpen and got right up into his face. "No. I've had enough of this shit. Enough of walking around on eggshells, and being the 'fallen agent'. I'm a good investigator. I'm _great_ at what I do, and fuck you all, I'm going somewhere they can appreciate it."

Gibbs said nothing, and just studied his agent calmly, deciding that he'd give it a week, let the guy cool down and talk to him again then. They needed to get him out of here before he ruined anything further with this angry display and foul language.

When he didn't receive a response, Tony nodded sharply, whirled on the ball of his foot, and stalked away, a muttered, "fuck you all" heard before he disappeared into the lift, the doors closing behind him as Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo left the office for what he felt was the last time.

Gibbs knew in his gut that the young man would be back in two weeks... three at most.

Gibbs's gut, for what might have been the first time ever, was wrong.


	4. A Nose Where It Doesn't Belong

**Author's Note:**

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm a horrible, horrible person, leaving you guys hanging like I have! Really I am. After Spain, everything just got so crazy, but finally things seem to have settled down a little, and hopefully I can post with more frequency.

Please read and enjoy, and don't forget to let me know what you think. Thanks for all the reviews so far. I love to hear from you guys.

* * *

"Why are we even bothering with this? The minute the FBI gets wind, they're going to swoop in and steal it off us anyway."

James Middleton's voice rang out through the suddenly bustling police station, the senior detective pretending to struggle up out of the deep chair into which he'd sunk only minutes before, before collapsing back, far too 'tired' to move. He supposed it wasn't the biggest deal in the entire world, getting called in this early on a Wednesday morning. He knew he probably would have been thrilled by the sheer _nerve_ it took to dump a body on the steps of the J Edgar Hoover building had it not been for that fact that the case would be stolen from them in less than a minute when the city awoke to this new travesty.

"Come on! Get off your ass and do your job!"

His young partner, Detective DiNozzo, had been working there for only four short months, and already he was bossing the rest of them around like he was in charge. Granted, he was damn good at his job – the reason why the force had jumped at the chance hire him in the first place – and he certainly knew his way around a crime scene. Points against him... Well there was the fact that he'd left NCIS, but despite the fact that from what he'd gathered it hadn't been the easiest parting of ways – he could still remember the chill they'd all experienced the first few weeks after that encounter with his former boss – the Chief knew the particulars and didn't seem overly bothered. In fact, he and DiNozzo were practically the best of mates already, which considering their gruff, hard to please boss, was something of a miracle...

... or a sign of the apocalypse.

"Okay, okay! I'm coming," he grouched, dragging his ass out of his chair and following the younger man from the room.

* * *

"Time of death is between approximately nineteen and twenty one hundred last night," Ducky informed the taciturn statue he called his boss, eyes moving to find those of the other man. "By the looks of it, I'd say gunshots to the chest as the cause of death, but the others are just as likely so. I won't be able to be sure until after we get him to autopsy."

"Get the Petty Officer out of here, Ducky."

Ducky just nodded, shooting a brief glance at Tony, a detective now, standing with his partner by the police cruiser, the older one gesticulating wildly, and obviously recounting his feelings on their being replaced on this investigation. Tony kept his cool – though he refused to look over at those he'd once worked with – nodding his head at whatever his partner was saying, speaking calmly to the man and managing to soothe him with whatever words he'd chosen to speak.

"Are we ever going to get him back, Jethro?" Ducky asked on a sigh, sad eyes watching the former Special Agent.

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder at his former colleague, before turning back to his medical examiner. "I don't know, Ducky," Gibbs offered, his tone blank, emotionless, as it always was.

"We all miss him," Ducky offered. "Abby most especially." He turned back to the body of the petty officer that lay sprawled to one side of the building's main office doors.

Abby Sciuto had been the most vocal about Tony's leaving, and it was clear that she laid the blame for the event solely at the feet of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Where once she had been animated and vivacious around the older man, she now barely gave him the time of day, and several times had refused to acknowledge his presence at all, and Gibbs' gruff denial of any responsibility for the situation was doing nothing to mend the once close friendship.

"She'll move on."

Ducky just gave his long time friend a look of wry seriousness. "If you believe that, Jethro, then clearly you've misplaced those instincts you're so well known for."

"He doesn't want to come back."

Ducky sighed, shaking his head. "He does. You just have to give him a chance."

* * *

"It's a good way to get attention real fast," Tony was saying to his partner, studiously ignoring his old team as they bustled around the crime scene that had been in the hands of the MPDC a short half an hour ago. "Or a _really_ pointed way to let the FBI know you mean business."

"Who do you suppose he is?"

Tony pretended to think about it for a moment. "Judging by those on site, I'd guess someone in the Navy."

James laughed at that, shaking his head at the younger detective. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"I try."

"What's going on here?" a new voice entered the conversation, and both detectives turned as one to assess the young woman who approached, her eyes flickering between the two detectives and the NCIS team that were just now beginning to wrap up their investigation. "This is hardly in your area of jurisdi..."

But her voice, like her walk, faltered when she saw the man being carefully wrapped in plastic by Ducky and Palmer. "Oh my god!" And her hand flew to her mouth, her dark eyes wide in horror as she struggled to gasp in a few quick breaths. "Billy!"

"Billy?"

The woman tore her eyes away from the body of the man she had once known, turning to look into the eyes of the young detective standing by the patrol car. Hurriedly, she shook whatever thoughts had been in her head away, before taking a few steadying breaths. "Petty Officer William Frederick Harborough," she offered; her breath shaking as she attempted some semblance of calm. "A witness in one of our cases."

"You are?"

"Agent Mikaela Thornton," she offered quickly, shaking her head as though to clear it, before extending her hand to take Tony's. He was about to accept he gesture when she was interrupted by another cool voice.

"Agent Thornton."

She turned to greet Gibbs, made nervous it seemed, by the cool tone of his voice and the obvious suspicion in his eyes. "Sir?"

"You'll direct all you information towards me or my team. Detective DiNozzo is no longer a part of this investigation."

Looking back and forth between the two, Agent Thornton noticed considerable hostility in the eyes of the younger man, and watched in silence as without another word, he turned and nodded at his partner, both of them sliding back into their patrol car.

It was clear to Gibbs, from the look Tony gave him as they drove off, that he had only made things worse.

* * *

"It's not our case anymore, DiNozzo. Let the Feds fight it out."

But Tony was already shaking his head. "No. There's something here. Something we're not seeing. Why did the call come to us? The body was on the steps of the FBI building, for god's sake. Why didn't they call the FBI?"

"Because nine one one dials us?"

Tony shot him a dry look, before shaking his head again. "There's more to this case than what's on the surface."

"NCIS says we're not involved, means we're not involved, Tony. Let it go."

It was clear from James' attitude that he thought Tony's determination was purely due to his old boss stealing the case from him. "Think about it," he argued, turning to the Chief when it was clear he'd lost James' interest long ago. From the Chief's expression, he wasn't that much keener on sticking with the investigation than Tony's partner, but at least he was still listening. "Think about what we found. The shots, all grouped together. Three in the heart, three in the head. Eyes and tongue missing. _Who_ does that remind you of?"

"You think Carlos did this?" The Chief was sceptical at best. "You realise he's in prison right? You should, DiNozzo. You put him there."

"And yet a copycat murder comes in, three in the morning, and for some reason, out of everyone in the precinct, it's forwarded through to me."

The Chief shrugged broad shoulders. "You're the only one guaranteed to be awake enough to deal with a murder at that hour of the morning."

"_Chief_," and Tony's voice was stern, trying to get his point taken seriously. "What are the chances of a copycat killer murdering a man _exactly_ as Carlos Nazziri might have, and then my number, out of everyone else here, being called? Tell me."

The Chief sighed. "Slim." He shook his head, reluctance in his every action. "We're supposed to be off this case, so you'll be sticking your nose where it doesn't belong and isn't wanted."

There was a flash of white teeth at his boss' capitulation. "It's what I do best."

* * *

"Agent Thornton," a casual tone greeted her as she picked up a peach from the tray in the store, her dark eyes moving to discover the handsome detective she'd seen a couple of days previous. "Small world."

"Small city," she corrected him, turning back to the fruit and picking two from the selection on offer, before turning from him and moving off into the store; hopefully to get rid of him.

"Hey, look..." and Mikaela wanted to sigh in dismay when she found the guy tugging lightly on her arm in order to get her to face him. Turning slowly, she dutifully fixed her eyes on his, nodding to acknowledge that she was listening. "I just... I wanted to apologise for the other day. I was a little... unfriendly, and honestly, it had _nothing_ to do with you."

She studied him in silence for a long moment, dark eyes studying those blue ones opposite her, remembering well the tension between the NCIS agent and this man before her, something within them, deep down where she couldn't _quite_ read it, caught her attention, and a slight frown tugged at her lips. "What is it that you're hiding, Detective?" she asked quietly, as though to herself, before she shook her head and extended her hand to take his. "Very well. Apology accepted." Then she offered him a brief smile of farewell, before turning once again and strolling off into the store; not once looking back.

* * *

"A fan of the sliced meats, Agent Thornton?"

Mikaela turned again in surprise and annoyance to face the man standing beside her. "You obviously don't know a blow-off when you encounter one."

Tony just shrugged, his expression mildly offended. "And you obviously don't know the difference between a man commenting on sliced meats and a guy making a pass at you," he offered back with a short shrug, before turning away from her and nodding briefly at the young man behind the counter when his number was called. "I was here first, Miss Thornton," he added with a pointed expression, stepping forward to order.

It was a few minutes later that he'd ordered fifty grams of triple smoked ham – he'd be having a fabulous lunch, whatever else happened – and was in the process of strolling off through the store, when a short call caught his attention.

"Detective, wait!"

He turned back to see her holding up a finger, as though telling him to stay exactly where he was, before she turned and ordered. A minute later she was standing in front of him again, holding her shopping basket in both hands in front of her and looking up at him a little sheepishly.

"Sorry. I'm just far too used to guys..." and she shrugged, informing him that he should be able to guess the rest.

"Hitting on you?" Tony offered with one of those charming smiles he was well known for in the female community of this great city.

She nodded with a rueful laugh at his words, her eyes sparkling up at him in amused embarrassment, before she stepped around him and began walking. The slow, almost purposeful manner in which she did so indicated that he should feel free to fall into step, and he did, looking down at her from his taller height as she continued.

"Yeah. It's hard to be taken seriously as a federal agent when you look like I do," she explained with a smile, glancing up at him momentarily before looking away again. "I guess when people see me they think that I'm just some hopeless bimbo who joined the FBI to hook up with hot guys carrying guns and handcuffs."

Tony had to chuckle at that. "And did you?" he asked teasingly, knowing he'd hit the mark when the woman laughed, her eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Maybe in some _small_ way," she offered with a shrug and a wink, shaking her head in dismay at her admission. "But the boys at work don't need to know that, right?"

"Right," Tony agreed, one corner of his lips tugging up into a rather lopsided smirk that – if Mikaela had to be entirely honest with herself – she found rather charming; and yes, attractive too. Then he glanced pointedly down at her basket, deciding to change the subject from work. After all, he didn't want to push too hard too fast; he didn't want her getting suspicious and closing off before he'd discovered any information about this case. "So... Planning a party, are you?"

Her brows rose in question a moment before she noticed the direction of his gaze and her own eyes fell to her basket, crowded as it was with chocolate, chips and biscuits. She shrugged. "Not really. Just a few of the girls coming over for movie night."

Tony's brows rose in instant interest at her words. "Pyjama party, huh?"

She grinned at his reaction, shaking her head at the obvious hope in his expression before shrugging once again with a wicked grin pulling at her mouth. "That's right. Running around the bedroom wearing ridiculously skimpy pyjamas having a pillow fight; what else is there to do on a Friday night?"

He chuckled at her obvious exaggeration. "I see. And how does one get invited to such an event."

She grinned teasingly up at him, and he knew that he'd succeeded in gaining her attention. Perfect. Now to make her feel comfortable. Feel like talking. Feel like spilling those facts about the case that he wasn't supposed to know.

"Being a girl would certainly help; it's actually a prerequisite."

"Ah, disappointing," and Tony sighed exaggeratedly, putting on his best 'disappointment' face. "I've always wanted to see one of those."

"Now that I believe, Detective," she replied, looking halfway between dismay and amusement at his admission. Then she fell silent, looking back to her basket, walking beside him, her eyes darting around the store as though she was fighting for something to say.

He decided to lay out the clincher.

"Well, it's been great, Agent Thornton, but I suppose I'd best let you get back to your party shopping. After all, I've got to head for the salads, and you," and he glanced back at her basket, another smile tugging at his mouth. "Well... One can't have a party without endless litres of carbonated drinks..."

She laughed softly at his words, nodding her agreement and looking back towards the soft drink aisle they'd passed earlier. "No you really can't," she agreed, before pausing a moment and shifting her basket to one hand, she offered the other one. "Mikaela Thornton."

Tony paused momentarily, observing her hand as though it might be a trick, taking it seconds later when he received a laugh for his antics. "Anthony DiNozzo. Tony to my friends, co-workers, and... well... really just about everyone for that matter."

Mikaela laughed at that, shaking her head in amusement. "Well then, _Tony_," and she stressed the name, her eyes sparkling up at him. "It was a pleasure to meet you again. You make a better second impression than your first."

Tony just returned her smile, his eyes sparkling in amusement. "Thanks. I try."

* * *

"Got it, Chief," Tony spoke in a cheerful voice as he strolled back into the precinct and collapsed into his high-back chair with a weary sigh, his feet propped up on his desk.

"Got what, DiNozzo?" the man asked, brow raised as he looked at the younger man, waiting to hear exactly how it was he'd made any kind of progress with two groups of Feds fighting over this case.

"Her number, Chief, and a dinner date."


	5. The Old Neighbourhood

**Author's Note:**

Yep. I'm a terrible person for waiting this long to continue this. Heads up... not my best work, but I felt I should probably give you something after all this time.

Once again, I'm really sorry, and I hope you all enjoy this next chapter.

Review and let me know what you think.

* * *

"Not one _hundred_ percent sure what's going on, Boss, but it's definitely something hinky." Chief just gave him a look that spoke volumes, one brow arching to his forehead at the detective's words, before Tony quickly shook his head. "Sorry. Chief. Won't forget again."

"Now why don't I believe you, DiNozzo?"

Tony shook his head, ending the conversation with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Not the point. Something's going on, and I'm not altogether certain we're going to like it."

The chief frowned at the man everyone acknowledged as his favourite, concern creasing his forehead. "Why's that?"

"Agent Thornton confessed that Fornell is in a right state. Something about_ 'those Navy assholes'_ moving Nazziri."

"You're–"

"Not kidding, Chief. This time tomorrow, that murderous son of a bitch is going to be holed up at NCIS headquarters." It had been long enough that mention of his former workplace didn't make him flinch, but not so long that he didn't feel a twinge at the idea that it was no longer his place of work. It just felt strange and surreal, like he was living someone else's life.

"Looks like it's time you visited the old neighbourhood, DiNozzo."

Tony frowned. "Say what now?"

* * *

"_Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony!_"

He'd realised he'd missed her, but seeing her now, tattoos, studded dog collar, black pigtails and platform leather boots, brought home just how much he'd adored the Goth lab tech.

The air was forced from his lungs in a sharp exhale as she collided with him, throwing herself into his arms and hugging him so tightly he felt as though his head was about to explode. "Hey Abs," he hissed out between clenched teeth, his voice faint and breathless from lack of oxygen. "Missed you."

"Oh Tony! I missed you too!" She released him a moment to get a look at his face, before throwing her arms around him once again and hugging him tight once more. "Please, please, _please_ tell me you're back."

Easing her away, Tony was already shaking his head, lifting the visitor's badge from the chest pocket of his dark leather jacket as proof. "Sorry Abs. Just visiting."

"But you could!" she insisted, nodding her head and causing those dark pigtails to bounce. "Come back, I mean."

Tony's voice was a tad more serious to drive his point home. "No, Abs. I can't."

Abby Sciuto studied him seriously for a long moment, a pout beginning to pull at her darkly painted lips, before she shrugged off her melancholy and pounced on him again for the briefest of hugs. Then stepping back, she grasped his hand and dragged him with her down the hall to her lab. "Never mind. You're here now! God, the things I could tell you!"

* * *

"Tony's here?" McGee sat up straighter at his desk – formerly Tony's – his head whipping back and forth as if likely to catch a glimpse of him walking through the bullpen. When it became obvious that this wasn't working, he rose to his feet, making to head towards the elevator.

"McGee!" Gibbs' hard voice broke his focus, and McGee turned to view the dark glower on his boss' face.

"Yeah, Boss."

Gibbs' finger pointed down. "Sit."

"But Tony–"

"... is here to see Abs. If he wanted to see you, McGee, he would have come here."

"Not likely, seeing as how you're..." but McGee realised what he was muttering under his breath, and cut himself off. Realising too that his boss wasn't going to budge on this issue, no doubt something to do with some ridiculous marine pride, McGee returned to his seated position, exchanging a furtive glance with Ziva, before focussing once again on his computer screen.

* * *

"No kidding."

Abby shook her head in wonderment. "I _know_, right? Ziva! Seeing someone! Can you believe it? How he deals with the realisation that she could kick his ass in both a fair and unfair fight, I don't know."

"Clearly not a prideful man, is Colonel Cooper."

Abby just grinned, tempted once more to hug her friend, but remembering too his warning that he was nearly one hundred percent positive she'd cracked a rib with her near-constant hugging. Though she knew this was entirely fiction, she let it go, respecting his wishes. "How's life at the precinct? Any sexy female detectives to keep you distracted from the work at hand?"

Tony chuckled. "A few. I'm not complaining."

"I'd bet you're not." Abby fixed him with a meaningful glance. "We had a couple of metro in here the other day, witnesses. Officer Nelson is _definitely_ your type, if I don't miss my guess."

"You? Guess? Surely not."

Abby grinned. "Not everything's an exact science, Tony. Might I refer your memory to your brief fling with Melanie Alder?"

Tony grimaced at the memory of the nerdy girl he'd gone out with once. As nerds went, the girl was definitely of the good looking variety, but apparently not enough guys of his 'quality' had thought the same, and since they were 'meant to be together' she had felt it more than okay to keep a close eye on him. Being the techie nerd that she was, this meant installing video cameras around his house. He'd had to keep his blinds closed at all times for months until she'd eventually lost interest.

"I see your point."

Abby grinned brightly at him. "I thought you might."

Then Tony sighed, shaking his head. "Well, Abs, I'm due back at the office, so I'll have to say good–"

His breath was expelled sharply from his lungs when she threw herself at him again, squeezing him tightly. "No! You can't go!"

"Abs!" he hissed, no air in his lungs. "The hugging."

"Right!" Abby released him, stepping back, but bouncing a little on the balls of her feet. "But you can't go before saying hi to everyone. We miss you Tony. Really, we do. All of us."

Tony shook his head, despite the determination on Abby's face as she'd said the last. "Not all, Abs."

* * *

"I should'a known you wanted my desk, Probie."

McGee just about jumped out of his seat, spinning to look at his former co-worker standing behind his desk with a wide grin, green eyes flashing amusement. "Tony!"

"You know... I've been getting that a lot today. You thought I was dead or something."

McGee automatically stood, unable to sit at this particular desk with DiNozzo standing right there. "You nearly fell off the face of the world."

Tony couldn't help but grin at that. "Nearly, Tim. Nearly."

Things might have continued in the same manner, Ziva having a chance to greet her former colleague, had Gibbs not chosen that moment to return from interrogation, dragging a more than irate Carlos Nazziri by his collar.

Whatever Gibbs might have said to the detective would never be known, because the suddenly awkward silence was ripped apart by the almost feral snarl coming from Carlos as he threw an elbow at Gibbs' face – missing of course, and being thrown roughly to the floor for his efforts – and tried to hurl himself at Tony.

"I'll _kill_ you! I'll _fucking kill you!_"

* * *

James Middleton shot Tony a look that clearly said the guy was insane. "You went all the way down there to see how Carlos felt about you?" His partner shook his head. "You know, if you let me _know_ you had a death wish, I could have helped you out."

Tony shot his partner his trademark careless grin. "The _point_ is, Chief, that Nazziri seems to be under the impression that we're setting him up. A high profile kill like that... It's something he would do, but he seemed genuinely livid about it. Clearly someone's giving orders they shouldn't be."

"So you say, but how can we be sure?"

Tony shook his head. "We can't. Without questioning Nazziri directly, we've got no hope figuring this one out. Short of–"

"Waiting for him to come after you."

With a nod, the Detective DiNozzo rose from his chair. "Stands to reason. Well... I'm off." Pulling on his coat, Tony flashed them all his trademark grin. "Got a date."

James rolled his eyes, whilst the chief a couple of the other detectives laughed at their newest colleague. "Of course you do. Enjoy your weekend."

It didn't seem possible at the time, but Tony's smile actually widened. "Count on it."

* * *

"You know... I wasn't one hundred percent sure you'd call."

Tony glanced over at the gorgeous woman standing in line beside him, arching a brow as he readjusted the popcorn bucket under his arm. "Why not?"

Mikaela Thornton shook her head, a slight frown pulling at her brows. "Nothing in particular. You just seemed... well... distant. Uninterested."

"In you? Rubbish."

"Then what was it?"

Tony shook his head. "Bad day at the office. And speaking of... How's that case going with your friend? Billy, was it? Any new leads?"

Instant suspicion clouded her eyes and Tony wanted to curse himself for the blunt question. On some, it worked a treat, those of the right personality more than willing to disclose the details of a particularly frustrating case. Mikaela, as it turned out, wasn't one of those people, and her mouth tightened, her arms folded as she turned her gaze forward and away from him. "I can't discuss an ongoing investigation, Tony. You know that."

"Forget I asked. Instead, tell me about that party."

His instant dismissal and obvious disinterest in finding out more on the case made her feel silly for ever doubting him, whilst his next comment just made her laugh. "Oh you _wish_ I'd tell you about it, but like I said before, it was secret girl business."

Tony sighed heavily, as if hard put upon. "You are a cruel, _cruel_ woman, Miss Thornton." Then he nodded his head as he popped a piece of the heavily buttered popcorn into his mouth, teasing her with, "Now find us a seat before I seriously reconsider agreeing to this date."

Her look of playful outrage made him grin. "You called me."

"So you say. Give me your witness."

"But I–" She glared at him with mock-anger a moment. "I was alone, as you well know."

He flashed her another grin. "So what you're saying is that you have no proof? None whatsoever?"

She sighed, conceding the point.


End file.
